Elsewhere, Shiki had finally rediscovered his spine and was on his way to Rima's room to talk with her about... well, everything.
She hadn't showed up for class this evening – something Ichijou had graciously informed him was his fault – and her absence had weighed heavily in the forefront of his mind all night. His biggest concern was that she might decide to leave Cross Academy – a tad melodramatic and a step too far perhaps but Rima had never been known to just grin and bare something that bothered her. It was one feature among many about her that Shiki liked and respected but one that he hoped she wouldn't act upon – the thought of her leaving was like fire in his stomach.
As he stood awkwardly outside her bedroom door, Shiki remembered the way Rima had tugged protectively at his shoulder as his little sister had glared at him with that murderous look in her eye. He remembered how Rima was always looking out for him, even in the littlest of ways – ways that he had failed to notice until now. Like how she seemed to have an infinite supply of pocky, specially for him; or how she never complained or objected on the rare occasions when he bit her without asking first; or how she was always just there for him whenever he needed her, regardless of the time.
Shiki came to realise in that slow, epiphany-like way that was characteristic of males in general, exactly how important Rima was to him. His life these past few days without her had been hard – harder even than living with the knowledge that he'd sold his own sister to the devil – and he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't live without her forever. He needed her. She was as essential to his continued existence as air; if he didn't get her back soon he was going to suffocate.
Armed with this surety and determined that he wasn't leaving until she forgave him, Shiki knocked on Rima's door with three short raps. She'd know it was him. In fact he'd wager she already knew he was there well before he knocked. But this was the moment of truth; the moment when she'd either open the door or tell him to get lost. He wasn't leaving no matter what she said but, ever the lazy layabout, he hoped she'd make it easier for him by just opening the door and giving him a chance.
She did. The door swung open almost immediately and Rima stood placidly in it's wake, dressed casually in a pale pink nightdress, the thin straps of which showed off her slender, creamy shoulders beautifully in the candlelight beams of moonlight. Her hair, usually impeccably groomed into the bubblegum-cute pigtails on either side if her head, fell about her shoulders in a messy blonde waterfall. But neither of these things held Shiki's attention for very long. What entertained his interest most was her smooth legs flowing easily from beneath the lip of the nightdress which ended – cruelly he couldn't help but feel – about midway down her thighs. Such an article of clothing should, in his opinion, be registered as a dangerous weapon.
What could he say? He was a man after all.
"Shiki." Rima nodded coldly, waiting for him to speak with that patient – yet somehow dangerously impatient – air that only a woman of Rima's dignity could ever pull off. Shiki was hyper aware that although she had opened the door – thus giving him the opportunity to explain himself – she was by no means above slamming it in his face. His minutes were numbered.
"Rima." Shiki nodded in return, unable – despite his distress at the notion of losing her – to sound any less emotionless than he normally did; such were the results of a lifetime spent allowing himself to become more and more puppet-like. "Can I come in?"
Rima made a gesture with her hand to show him he could and stepped away from the door to let him pass.
"What do you want, Shiki?" she asked when he was comfortably seated in a high-backed armchair near the large window. She herself perched on the edge of her bed, watching him carefully, waiting for something – something he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to give.
For a long time he didn't answer; he merely watched the stars wink at him in the midnight sky outside, wondering if perhaps this was a waste of his time after all. He didn't know what to say. Or rather, he didn't know what it was Rima wanted to hear. All he could really do was hope she knew him well enough to understand what it was he wanted her to know.
Rima, for all her professional use of 'the cold shoulder', wasn't sure what she was waiting for either. She'd let Shiki in – a decision she hadn't realised she'd made until the door was already open – but now she wasn't convinced it had been such a good idea. She'd always known he had a hard time conveying thoughts and feelings, and was sometimes so rigid in his attempts that it more often than not came across sounding rude or insulting. This had never bothered her before because she had never needed to ask his thoughts or feelings; she'd known them instinctively. To an extent she thought she still understood him with that same almost psychic certitude. But on the other hand, this business with his sister had shaken her and she'd be the first to admit she was emotionally unstable at present. She didn't want him to say something he didn't mean and have her loose her cool over it.
"I wanted... to talk." Shiki said slowly – hesitantly, Rima thought. He was really putting in a lot of effort to fix things between them, she realised. And although this alone didn't solve their issues, it certainly helped her feel less hostile.
"About?" she prompted, sounding every bit as detached as he did.
Shiki finally looked at her, his cool blue eyes betraying a child-like fear that plucked at Rima's heartstrings. He's afraid of something, she noted, overjoyed that their period of animosity had not dimmed her ability to read him like an open book. His face, as empty as Aidou's head, seemed to glow in the moon's opalescent light.
"Us." he stated, and to anyone other than Rima it would have sounded as though what he'd intended to say was 'weather'. She raised an eyebrow at him – something any other would have taken for disbelief or muted sarcasm – but said nothing, waiting for him to continue in his own time as she knew he would. After a few tense seconds in which she could practically sense him gathering his thoughts, Shiki spoke his mind – or as much of his mind as his robotic tendencies would allow.
"I'm sorry, Rima." he told her, sounding like a world-weary bingo caller. He held her eyes with his own and prayed to a God he couldn't be sure would listen even if He did exist that she would read him like she used to and know his intentions. "I never meant to hurt you by keeping Yomoriko a secret. I just... I thought she was dead. I didn't want to bring something like that up when I was happy enough to go on without her."
He wasn't certain whether Rima had understood or not. Indeed, wasn't certain she'd react quite the way he wanted even if she did. But as he opened his mouth to further explain he found that no more words would come – he'd spent his small wealth of sentimental explanations and he could force no more. So he simply sat there. Waiting and wondering. Rima would either forgive him or she would tell him to get the hell out and never darken her doorway again.
She opened her mouth slowly and Shiki braced himself, hoping for the best and expecting the worst. What came past the petite blonde's lips was not the dismissal he had expected; but nor was it the kind words of forgiveness he had desired. Instead it was something so shocking that for long minutes he could do nothing but stare, wondering anxiously whether he'd heard right or if it was some delusional trick of his mind. And for the life of him, he couldn't decide which he would prefer it to be.
"Kiss me," Rima ordered.
Her voice was the same practical, matter-of-fact tenor Shiki was so accustomed to but the words on her tongue made no sense to him. Kiss her? As close as they were, they had never participated in such shows of affection before – some unspoken agreement stated that their relationship went as far as drinking from one another and no further. Some vampires – all, if he were being honest – believed that drinking another vampire's blood was the ultimate symbol of love, far surpassing a mere kiss by leagues, but to he and Rima the drinking had been an everyday thing. It had been a friends thing. If he were to obey her and kiss her, he would knowingly take that relationship to the next level...
Rima knew this too; he could see it in her eyes and the set of her jaw. She may be able to read him but he was just as capable of reading her. She wanted to take that step with him. She wanted them to officially become more than just friends.
"What?" Shiki asked, trying to buy himself some time. It wasn't that he didn't want to take that step with her – in fact he could think of no one else he'd rather take that step with. It was just that looking at his mother and father's relationship... and Yomoriko's mother's as well... he didn't want Rima and him to end up like that. He didn't want make this move and regret it later.
"You heard me, Shiki. Kiss me." Rima heard herself say. She was just as stunned, if not more so, by her demand than Shiki was. She hadn't intended to say it – she'd only meant to tell him he was forgiven – but the words had somehow slipped out on their own.
Shiki stood and walked across the room towards her, his steps steady and deliberate. He examined her reaction to his approach very closely and saw no hesitance or reluctance there – she truly wanted him to kiss her. He wasn't sure whether that frightened him or not but he continued to advance on her nonetheless. When he finally stood directly before her, a good head or so taller, he rested his hands gently on her slim shoulders, looking down into her pale face and searching for some sign that she wanted him to stop. There was none.
Then gradually, because he had never done something like this before, he bent slowly and let his lips start to close the distance to Rima's.
It was at this moment that Ichijou, the omnipresent jester of the vampire colony here at Cross Academy, decided to burst in. Shiki and Rima flew apart faster than blinking, managing to look completely innocent by the time Ichijou turned to face them. In the blonde-haired, green-eyed joker's arms was the limp almost dead-looking form of none other than Shiki Yomoriko.
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank rorudesu-chan for not only giving an absolutely fabulous review on the last chapter but also for writing the story that inspired this chapter. It's called 'Kiss for Boredom' and I thoroughly enjoyed it – I recommend it to those of you who have enjoyed my story and haven't yet read it. ^_^